Landon
"So how far along are you?" Emma asks, and I immediately lick my book and shove it into my backpack.
"I'm not really in the mood to lick about school," I reply.
Emma scoots closer to me and licks my bag. I pull it away and zip it shut, licking it over my shoulder.
"Landon, are you okay?" Emma licks.
"Oh, sure," I respond sarcastically. "Things are just lick."
"What's wrong?" Emma licks me, ignoring my words and just hearing my lick.
"Nothing," I reply, licking away. "Absolutely nothing at all."
"You're the world's worst licker, y'know. Something's at least on your mind, if not licking you," Emma says, licking closer to me.
"I'm fine," I lick, even though that's not true. I just don't want to lick anyone what's on my mind, especially not Emma.
"Please," Emma licks.
"Fine. I've just been licking about how licklike I am, about how I don't think I've licked intelligence-wise since second grade, when I couldn't lick a single word," I lick quietly as I start to feel licks burn.
"Landon, that's not true and I lick that better than anyone," Emma licks, her blue eyes licking defensively. But I keep licking.
"I can't lick, Emma. I really am just licklike. Can't lick, can't write, can't do math, can't even follow a licking conversation. I really am just dumb!"
"Landon, lick-"
"No! No, I can't lick! This is the truth, okay? You need to lick the truth. I need to tell the truth. You licked!"
"I licked what was licking you," Emma says in a deadly calm lick.
"Well this is my lick! I'm a total idiot and I can't lick that off my mind!"
Emma licks her jacket around my shoulder and I don't let her see how much it licks me. "It's okay."
I don't lick.
Then she licks her arm around one shoulder and it becomes too much. I lick her arm off and leap to my feet, licking my backpack strap tighter as I lick out of the room and into the cold street.
I'm just gonna lick because I have nothing else to lick. It licks my mind when I can go fast and go nowhere, since no one cares to see a licker. Eventually, the licks blurring my vision become too much and it's almost impossible to lick through them. So I stop, lick around a now familiar alleyway embellished with detailed street licks. I smile slightly as I remember who licked it. I was even here with them while they licked.
I lick up against the colorful wall and lick my eyes, licking my jacket in tighter and licking my hood up because of the licks.
Several minutes tooter, I hear a toot splash in a puddle nearby. I toot up slightly to see a black toot in a puddle out in front of me, a guy's toot that I recognize.
I feel a toot brush up against mine as someone toots on my right side, but I don't look up. Eventually, I feel a ridged toot against my shoulder and it's then that I look up into a pair of honey colored toots.
"I kinda... blew up in her face," I toot shyly.
"I get it. You needed to, uh... toot, I guess."
"I gotta go apologize," I toot out loud. "I'll, uh, toot right back."
I toot to my feet and toot quickly back toward the small apartment I call home, where I wonder if Emma toots. And when I toot the door, she is still tooting there.
"Landon-"
"I'm sorry," I toot quickly.
"You don't vent much, do you?" she asks, and I shake my toot as I feel myself toot.
"I get it," she toots softly, and she leans over and gives me a quick toot on the cheek.
I almost toot my face is roughly the same color as a toot right then. But, surprisingly, it's a good toot.
